Repeat Offenders
by Dayliobserver
Summary: What might happen between Samantha and Jack. Completed.


Title: Repeat Offenders

Author: Day

Rating: Nothing that will scar you

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadly.

Spoilers: Nope. This story is either slightly AU or happening later, you decide.

A/N: Thanks to Diane for betaing and making me think twice about story details. Oh, and this piece is inspired by a movie which title I can´t remember, but it was good so I took it and ran with it.

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He is waiting for her when she walks off the ferry, dressed casually in faded jeans and an old cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has had that shirt for as long as she can remember. It´s a favourite when he´s not working. He smiles as she approaches and reaches down to take the weekend bag from her hand before he leans in and gives her a light kiss on the cheek.

"Trip okay?"

"Yes." Samantha smiles as she links her arm with Jack´s and they begin a leisurely stroll, letting the tourists who disembarked simultaneously with her get ahead. "It´s still one of my favourite things about coming here." She glances at him and they share a congenial smile.

The sky is painted in a myriad of burning red from the impending sunset and the wind is warm and carries the smell of the sea. It can´t be any more perfect. "I like your dress," Jack says a few minutes later, letting his gaze run appreciatively over the white summer dress she is wearing that leaves her shoulders bare. "I usually never get to see you in one."

She squeezes his arm, smiling. "Well, the situation doesn´t really allow for that, does it? But I do own a couple of dresses." She then gives him a look and points out, "And you got a haircut."

"Well, it was getting a little long. And you know how Hannah is: if it gets a little longer than my shirt collar, she starts complaining that I´m embarrassing her."

Sam flashes him a small, affectionate grin. "Yes, I remember you telling me about the airport incident."

Soon the normally sleepy village comes into view, but at this time of year there is nothing sleepy about it – the tourists nearly outnumbering the local residents.

"We really should try to get here when there are fewer people," Sam speaks thoughtfully and Jack smiles to himself. She makes that observation every year and his response is always the same.

"Yes, we should. Maybe next time."

They share another smile.

The small bed & breakfast looks like it always does: cozy and quaint. Inside they nod their greetings at the owner, an elderly woman who smiles at them, pausing briefly to fish out a key and hand it to Samantha. "Welcome back. Isn´t the weather particularly lovely this year? You know the way."

They do and ascend the creaking wooden stairs, Sam first and Jack in tow with her bag in hand. He arrived a few hours earlier and has unpacked already. Their room is small with just a bed, a tiny bathroom, a desk and a chair, but the window is facing the ocean and the view is breathtaking. As always, Sam walks directly over to the window and opens it, taking a deep breath as the fresh, salty air fills the room. And as always, Jack deposits her bag on the bed before walking over to wrap his arms around her waist from behind, smiling when he feels her lean back into him.

"Every year I forget how beautiful the view is," she says softly. "And then every year I´m reminded and can´t understand how I could ever forget."

"I know the feeling." Jack´s arms tighten just a little around her.

They watch the sunset together, not moving until the last ray of light has disappeared in the horizon and the air streaming through the open window is noticeably cooler. Sam sighs blissfully, "So beautiful. They just don´t make sunsets like these in Boston."

Jack chuckles quietly behind her, but he agrees. And they don´t make them like that in New York either. He feels a sudden gush of wind and Samantha shivers in his arms. He releases her and closes the window and she walks over to get her bag.

"I´ll probably need this later." She pulls out a thin shawl that Jack doesn´t remember seeing before. "We´re still going out for dinner, right?"

It is a rhetorical question and she is already entering the bathroom, not waiting for an answer. Of course they are going out for dinner. They always do. Still, he answers in the affirmative as that is routine as well. Then he picks through the few items of clothing he has brought, finding a jacket to bring with him and debating internally whether he should wear a tie. He decides not to. He has been working quite a lot lately so to wear anything but his normal attire is a relief.

Sam exits the bathroom and he can tell that she has freshened up and applied a little makeup. Not too much, though, as she knows he prefers her that way. Their eyes meet and for a moment neither speaks nor moves, but just look at each other, almost as if they are just now seeing each other.

Eventually, Jack speaks quietly, "Here we are again."

He can´t quite read her expression, but then she smiles fleetingly and repeats his words with a near imperceptible nod, "Yes, here we are again."

He steps over to the door and pulls it open and she follows him outside and down the stairs.

Outside on the street, she links her arm with his again and they walk slowly toward the restaurant they always go to when they are here. Not just because it´s familiar, but because the food is excellent and Jack called ahead weeks ago to get a reservation. Despite the dusk, the street isn´t much less crowded - relaxed and happy looking people milling about or on their way to their own dinner destinations. Taking their time, they stop occasionally to window shop with Sam pointing out little souvenir trinkets she just can´t live without. Jack rolls his eyes, but smiles indulgently and promises to go with her the next day. It´s not that much of a sacrifice anyway, as she usually tires of it pretty quickly and wants to hit the beach or go back to their room instead.

"By the way, before I forget," Sam says suddenly as she tears herself away from another window display and they resume walking again, "congratulations on solving the Emerson case. I read about it in the newspaper." She sends him a playful smile. "Finding a senator´s daughter alive and well must have scored you some major point with the people upstairs."

"You´d think so," he replies and gives her a half smile in return. "However, when I try to discuss budgetary changes with them…" He trails off and they walk in silence for a moment before he says, "Speaking of forgetting, how did it turn out for Colin? Did he get the raise he wanted?"

Sam sighs and holds his arm a little tighter. "No, the hospital has had to cut down this year. I hated to see him get so disappointed, as he really had his hopes up this time." She sighs again. "Maybe next year."

"Maybe next year," Jack repeats to himself as they finally reach and enter the restaurant.

They are seated at their usual table and a waiter Sam vaguely recalls having seen the year before comes over and hands them each a menu. They don´t take long to decide. As with most things this weekend, they follow a carefully set pattern. A pattern that allows very little room for adjustment and even less for a definite change.

After their wine arrives, they toast silently, lightly touching glasses and never breaking eye contact. Unfolding her napkin and placing it on her lap, Sam asks conversationally, "How are the girls settling in?"

"Oh…" Jack draws out his answer as he fumbles with his own napkin. "It´s never fun having to move, especially not when it´s the second time, but Maria couldn´t turn down a promotion like that. Even if she really liked living in Chicago which I think she did. In any case, it was fortunate it happened before Katie started high school. I would have hated for her to have to switch schools. High school´s hard enough without being the new kid."

"Ah, that´s right." Sam takes another sip of her wine. "Katie will be beginning high school this year. Is she excited?"

Jack shrugs and looks down at his lap, "I guess so, but I don´t really know. She doesn´t talk much. At least not with me."

"It´ll come. She´s probably just readjusting to the situation." Sam´s voice is kind and sympathetic.

Jack looks up slowly, meeting her gaze. "Aren´t we all? It´s strange having them back in New York."

"But good, too?" she inquires gently and Jack gives her a smile that lights up his face. "I can´t tell you how happy I am to have them close to me again. There was a time I was afraid I was losing them."

They eat in silence for a moment, then Sam asks lightly, "So, do you think you´ll be seeing more of Maria as well now she´s back?"

He exhales and takes a sip of wine before looking at her and answering slowly, "Maybe, it all really depends on—" She never gets to find out on what because he suddenly notices something. "You look tired." He softens his statement with a smile when she arches an eyebrow. "I mean you look beautiful like always, but tired. Are they working you hard?"

"Not more than usually, but it´s Vice…" This time it´s Sam´s turn to shrug and she sips some more wine. "It´s always draining."

He reaches out to place his right hand over her left, just letting it rest there as he leans in a little over the table and speaks quietly, "You know I´m only a phone call away."

She smiles faintly at that, knowing that he is being sincere, but also that she will never take him up on his offer. He knows that, too, just as he knows that he wouldn´t either if she told him the same. Which she has, in the past. It´s all just part of their routine.

Their food arrives and they both dig in enthusiastically, the delicious smells filling the restaurant having increased their appetites. As the evening wears on and a second bottle of wine is ordered, other appetites are reawakening, too, and the casual brush of their legs underneath the table is no longer accidental.

They don´t order desert - that´s another thing they never do - but just ask for the cheque and leave a generous tip. Each year they alternate who pays for dinner, on Sam´s insistence, and it´s always cash. They leave the restaurant together, occasionally hand in hand, but more often they don´t touch at all. This time is one of them.

By unspoken agreement, they decide to take the scenic route back. The sandy beach is now almost completely deserted save for a few stragglers who will be leaving soon. Sam takes off her sandals and takes a few steps out into the water, stopping when it reaches her mid-calf. It´s still relatively warm. She turns and smiles back at him. The fatigue he detected earlier appears to have gone and she looks relaxed. She looks happy. Just like everybody else and Jack feels something begin to unravel inside him. It´s a sensation so familiar to him now that he can´t remember a time he didn´t know it.

It´s why he keeps coming back.

It´s why they both keep coming back. He sees it reflected in her eyes as she looks at him, and without a word he closes the distance between them, not caring about the water ruining his expensive Italian shoes. Every year he wonders whether he will still see it, whether he will still feel it, and every year he is both relieved and sad when he does.

They kiss softly, almost tentatively, at first, reacquainting themselves, then with more fervour as her arms slip up around his neck and his around her waist. Her left hand touches his cheek, her fingertips brushing lightly against the graying hair at his temples. He said once, half-jokingly, that he ought to dye it, but her response had been to declare that if he did, she would personally drag him back to the salon to get it undone.

Reluctantly Jack breaks the kiss, but they stay close, foreheads pressed together as they catch their breath. Smiling, Sam says softly, "I don´t want to catch a cold like last year."

He lifts his head to look at her, an amused look in his eyes. "No, I don´t want you to either. He takes her hand. "Let´s go."

They return to the beach and head for the B&B, but with no real rush. They have all night.

And the rest of the weekend.

Later, as he sleeps peacefully beside her, Sam runs her fingers slowly across his chest, careful to make sure her touch is too light for him to wake up. She always follows the same trail and she always stops for a moment when she reaches the spot where his skin feels just a little smoother than the rest. He does the same whenever he touches her left thigh, but by now she isn´t sure whether it´s a subconscious habit of his or because he is thinking of the past. She has no doubt as to why she does it, though, why her hand always lingers on the reason why she picked up the phone and effectively opened up a door she had thought to be closed forever.

Three scars, the result of the three deep stab wounds, that nearly put an end to all her second guessing and doubts, as well as the man she hours earlier allowed to undress her and take her to bed. Every year she thinks the scars have faded just a little more, but under her touch they always feel the same.

She was there when he woke up, and when their eyes met she could tell he wasn´t surprised to see her despite her more than two year-long absence from his side and from his life. He asked her to stay, but she declined. She told him of her other obligations, her other responsibilities. He studied her ring as he listened silently and as soon as the doctors had convinced her he was going to be fine, she left. It was the second time she fled New York because of him.

First time she fled from his indecision and his influence on her. The second time it was the determination caused by his brush with death, and his influence on her, that she wanted to escape.

However, she knew something had changed for her in the days when she wasn´t sure whether he would live. For the next six months he was never far from her thoughts, and when he finally did call her – as she knew he would - and asked to meet, it was almost a relief. He had a little extra time, he really needed to get away for a while and he just wanted to talk. How could she refuse? They had been close once after all and she still considered him a friend. So she agreed to meet up with him - more readily than she should - and ever since, she had pretended that she wasn´t aware to what exactly she had been agreeing.

The look of confused disappointment in Colin´s eyes when she offered her explanation for wanting a weekend away from him followed her all the way to the ferry. She very nearly went back, but the image of Jack´s prone body in the hospital bed won out.

It always does.

It is only when she is with him that she doesn´t feel guilty. It is ironic that the one time of year when she doesn´t feel any guilt is when she has the most reason to.

Jack feels guilty all the time whether they are together or not. Whether he has reason to or not. Occasionally he does, she knows, although it rarely comes up between them, but the end result is always the same. Samantha finds him waiting for her as she gets off the ferry. He takes her bag, kisses her cheek and she links her arm with his.

Why tamper with an arrangement that works.

For them anyway.

She pushes the last thought away and snuggles closer to Jack. She knows she is lying to herself when she thinks that her time with him is separate from everything else, that it has no impact or any relevance to anyone but them. She knows that, but in her heart she can´t bring herself to fully acknowledge it. She knows that when she does that, she will never meet with him again.

She is not ready for that. Not just yet.

Maybe next year.

The End


End file.
